


The Blonde and the Superhero

by SuperfriendlyFox



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, SuperCorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-24 13:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17101658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperfriendlyFox/pseuds/SuperfriendlyFox
Summary: Lena’s too shy to speak to Kara when she and Clark come to question her about the Venture explosion. Kara never becomes a reporter, and Lena doesn’t meet her again—falling for Supergirl instead—until the night of the CatCo holiday party.





	1. The Superhero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsSirEy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSirEy/gifts).



> The prompt was, "I never got your name"; meeting at a holiday (and/or work) party.
> 
> For MsSirEy, my Secret Santa. I hope you like it!

 

 

Lena brushes by the bodies waiting for her in the foyer. _Clark Kent from the Daily Planet,_ Jess had texted her. _And someone from CatCo_. They follow her into her office.

“There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why I wasn’t aboard the Venture yesterday. It was an emergency regarding planning for a ceremony I’m holding tomorrow.” She strides to the far wall and hangs her jacket up on her coat rack. “I’m renaming my family’s company and I had to cancel.”

“Ah. Lucky.”

Lena laughs at how it’d be to hang Kent and his smug smile up on her coat rack. “Lucky is Superman saving the day.”

Kent laughs too, probably thinking of possible defamatory headlines he might get away with writing. “Not something one expects a Luthor to say.”

“And Supergirl was there, too.”

Lena spares a haughty glance at this woman, this . . . _beautiful_ woman. She freezes momentarily, before snapping her attention away, and goes to pour herself a glass of water. To hide the blush surely creeping up her cheeks. Her heart pounds against her chest. It probably also desires to get closer to the blonde, and is attempting to do just that. _Dammit, Lena. Why can you never keep it together around a pretty face?_

She stalks to her desk and sits, ignoring this blonde goddess altogether. “Can we just speed this interview along? Just ask me what you want to ask me, Mr. Kent. Did I have anything to do with the Venture explosion.”

He looks at her as if surprised by her directness. “Did you?”

She doesn’t bother concealing her annoyance. “You wouldn’t be asking me if my last name was Smith.”

“Ah, but it’s not. It’s Luthor.”

She smirks. “Some steel under that Kansas wheat.” _I wonder what’s under that pastel cardigan . . . Dammit, Lena. Please, please be professional and focus on anything other than the pretty lady in the room._ “It wasn’t always. I was adopted when I was four. The person who made me feel most welcome in the family was Lex. He made me proud to be a Luthor. And then he went on his reign of terror in Metropolis . . .”  

She swivels in her chair to look out over National City, thinking about Superman . . . Which quickly gets her thinking about Supergirl. Another beautiful blonde.

“Declared war on Superman. Committed unspeakable crimes. When Superman put Lex in jail I vowed to take back my family’s company.” She spins in her chair to face Kent once more, but he and the blonde both have their backs turned, checking out her office for possible hiding places for Luthor World Domination devices, most likely.

_Don’t check out her ass, Lena. Don’t do it. You have more class than that._

They turn back to face her, and Lena keys the remote to play the short video projecting the future face of her building. “To rename it L-Corp, make it a force for good.

“I’m just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside of her family. Can you understand that?” She looks into the blonde’s eyes, then Kent’s, asking for a show of faith. Of goodwill.

The blonde nods. “Yeah.” She flashes a smile. A beautiful smile. Lena could get lost in that smile.

She can’t help but look once more into those sincere blue eyes. If only she had met this lovely lady in a nightclub, or at a gala. Or a science and engineering convention, likely the most promising scenario. All of her pick-up lines contain science or engineering puns. She should really work on those. And she should at least get the blonde’s name. Kent wouldn’t think anything of that. _Just ask for her name . . . Get her name Lena, you useless—_

Instead she finds herself standing up to do something infinitely less scary. “I know why you’re here. Because a subsidiary of my company made the part that exploded on the Venture.” She strides to the shelf, glad this morning she’d picked out this hip-hugging skirt, hoping the blonde notices her ass. _Damn. I should have taken off my blazer. It’s too long and hides too much of my ass._ “This drive contains all the information we have on the oscillator. I hope it helps you in your investigation.”

She brings the thumb drive over to them, desperately wanting to hand it to the blonde, wanting their fingers to ‘accidentally’ touch. She gives it to Kent instead. Because she’s a useless lesbian.

She’s going to be single forever.

“Thank you.” He nods at her, and actually seems open-minded for once.

She presses. “Give me a chance, Mr. Kent. I’m here for a fresh start, let me have one.”

The walls instantly rise up again. He nods and smiles a fake, plastic smile, possibly thinking of a future Pulitzer at her expense. “Good day, Miss Luthor.”

The blonde nods, too. Lena has to at least get her name, if not her number, _right now—_

“Good day.”

They go, and Lena’s left staring wistfully at the blonde ponytail as it bounces, farther and farther away from her.

 

*

 

As they leave the building, Kara can’t help thinking about those beautiful green eyes. And that beautiful face. That lovely figure . . . If only Miss Luthor hadn’t been wearing that long blazer so she could’ve seen it better.

Clark sighs. “I didn’t see anything when I x-ray visioned the room.”

“Yeah, me neither. What do you think?”

“Ahhhh, I’ve learned through hard experience not to believe anything a Luthor says.”

“Yeah I know I’m not a reporter or anything, but . . . I kind of believed her.” Kara’s cheeks flush with the realization she _wants_ to believe her. Maybe she’s biased. “On the other hand, maybe she _was_ lying. Her heart was beating _super_ fast.”

Clark laughs. “So was yours.”

“Was it?” Shoot. She’d hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“She was pretty, wasn’t she.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

He laughs again, and she stares straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge his teasing.

Just then Clark gets a call from Lois, and Kara takes the opportunity to fantasize about having a girlfriend who’ll call to check up on _her._ Whom she’ll get to call ‘sweetie.’ Who’ll have long, dark hair, and beautiful green eyes, and— _Rao,_ does she need to pull herself together.

 

*

 

“Okay, uh . . . I’ve made my decision.”

Miss Grant stops typing on her laptop and looks up at Kara, wide-eyed, like she’d expected her to take all twelve hours, thirteen minutes, and four seconds to decide on her new career. Miss Grant checks her phone. “Forty-three minutes before the deadline.” Wow. She really had expected her to take all twelve hours, thirteen minutes, and four seconds. “This better be good.” She takes off her glasses and sets them on the desk, and stares at her expectantly.

Kara takes a deep breath. Hopefully she can explain herself before Miss Grant yells at her to get out. “I _do_ want to be in Marketing.”

Miss Grant opens her mouth, probably to yell at her, and Kara hurries to continue—

“I know I only stumbled upon it because of that silly online quiz, haha, _but,_ I realize now it _is_ my calling. Marketing is all about putting your best foot forward, of changing people’s perception of you, or your product, that may be biased, based on old or incorrect information, or just prejudices in general. And I am all about changing people’s wrong perceptions. Right now the public has this dumb idea of CatCo Magazine as a soft publication, running articles like—” What was it Miss Luthor’s assistant had muttered behind Kara’s back? Something about— “High-waisted jeans, yes or no?”

Miss Grant closes her mouth, and Kara takes this as a green light to continue. Green . . . Miss Luthor’s eyes were green . . .

“I would be strategizing ways to get the public anxious to pick up the new issue of CatCo Magazine. Making them want to wake up early to run to the newsstand before they run out of copies. Making them want to sign up for a subscription. You know subscription sales are down three percent since last year— _through_ _no fault of your own,_ of course,” she hastens to add.

Miss Grant nods thoughtfully, and Kara bobs her head up and down in concert. Yes. She would be helping to rebrand CatCo, just like Miss Luthor was rebranding Luthor Co— _L-Corp._

“Mmm . . .” Miss Grant narrows her eyes. “Perhaps I was wrong . . . for the first time ever.”

Kara scrunches up her nose in confusion. “Wrong? About what?”

Miss Grant gives her an almost-but-not-quite smile. “Don’t you worry your little head about it, Kiera. I’ll let Harriet in Marketing know to expect you. And, don’t be fooled by her abrasive exterior and prickly personality, she’s really a very nice person.”

Kara gulps. Maybe Marketing really _isn’t_ her call—

“Oh, and make sure not to stand too close. Harriet does enjoy her garlic. Run along, now. Chop chop!”

 

*

 

Her erstwhile assistant scurries away, a nervous glance over her shoulder, and then _poof_ is gone—like an annoying board member after his third heart attack.

May Reynolds rest in peace.

She opens her desk drawer, takes out Kara’s resume, and gazes at the ‘Reporter’ she’d scrawled in red across it, a little over a year ago.

“I’m never wrong.” She puts the resume back in the drawer. It will see the light of day again.

Children need to make their own mistakes in life.

But Cat’s too experienced to make a mistake. She needs to take her own advice, and _dive._ Get out of her comfort zone. Become a new person. See who she’ll be on the other side of the ocean.

She takes a deep breath, and exhales, slowly. “Miss Teschmacher,” she calls, calmly, so very quietly and calmly and so much more reverentially than is warranted. “Get in here. _Please.”_

Her new assistant enters, her face inexplicably marred by worry, as did Cat not so very calmly and quietly request her presence? Or maybe that’s still the exact same facial expression she’d worn when Cat had ordered her to _get out_ earlier.

“I need you to place a call. To President Marsdin.”

Eve’s jaw drops. “Pres— _President_ Marsdin?”

Cat narrows her eyes. “Did I stutter just now? No, I don’t believe I did. Yes, _President_ Marsdin. Just tell any gatekeepers you encounter it’s Cat Grant calling.”

Eve nods hurriedly and scampers away, exactly like a timid little mouse.

Albeit one wearing a skirt from JCPenney.

 

*

 

Statistically, flying is still the safest way to travel.

Relaxing on her couch at home with her best friend, scotch on the rocks, Lena thinks over the events of the day. If Superman and his cousin hadn’t shown up at the exact moment they did, she wouldn’t be thinking at all right now. She would be doing something—or perhaps, a blissful nothing—on some other, ethereal, surely more peaceful plane of existence.

She momentarily lets go of brooding over her near-death experience—and her dear brother who was undoubtedly responsible—to allow her mind to wander to more relaxing, enjoyable topics . . . Such as Supergirl. Lena had often seen Supergirl on the news, but this was her first time seeing the heroine up close. She was literally a goddess, with her golden hair and insanely sculpted physique, invisible wings keeping her aloft in an earthly sky. A sky as blue as her eyes.

Lena gets up and pads barefoot out onto the balcony, to look out at the bright lights decorating the night sky—the sky a deeper blue now, a midnight blue. She hopes to catch a glimpse of yet another shade of blue, a royal blue, paired with a deep red cape as it streaks across the city.

Supergirl hadn’t smiled; there had been no reason to smile today. But she had the kind of face that was made for smiling. And those gorgeous blue eyes . . . What a babe.

_Too bad she probably thinks of me as just another Luthor._

Her thoughts wander back to that other blonde she’d seen up close today, the blonde from CatCo. The one Lena hadn’t had courage enough to speak even a word to, let alone ask her name, or her number. Ah, well. Lena probably wouldn’t have stood a chance with her anyway. She’d seemed open-minded enough, kind even. But Kent would surely have badmouthed Lena as they left the building. And even though the blonde seemed _super_ nice . . .

She was only human.

Taking another sip of her scotch, she rests her arms on the cool marble of the railing and stares off into the distance. At all those bright lights, the rooftops, the clouds drifting peacefully through the sky. It must be akin to ecstasy, flying on your own power. To rely solely on yourself, and not on the vagaries of machinery, weather patterns, or air traffic controllers. To be nimble and quick, and able to dodge drones sent by your own dear brother to shoot you down. To flit through the air at incredible speed, totally in control.

What it must feel like to fly . . . hand in hand with Supergirl.

Lena brings her scotch glass away from her lips, and blinks in disbelief. Either she’s already drunk much more than she’d meant to tonight, or that bright blue and red light on the horizon _is_ Supergirl, coming closer, and closer, and—

“Evening, Miss Luthor.” The heroine hovers in the air, only a few feet off the balcony, her golden hair billowing in the faint breeze.

“Please . . . call me Lena.”

Supergirl arches an eyebrow, and Lena immediately regrets her forwardness.

“Or not.” She affects a laugh, hoping it sounds assured. “I guess we’re still on a last name basis. Do you even _have_ a last name?” Supergirl arches a second eyebrow—Lena’s definitely had much too much to drink. “You don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little nervous around you.”

“Nervous?” If Supergirl’s eyebrows could lift any higher, they’d be hovering in the sky all on their own. “Why in the world would you feel nervous around me?”

 _Because you’re gorgeous and sexy and I think I’m falling a little in love with you._ “Well, you’re standing in the sky with nothing to stand upon, for one thing.”

Supergirl chuckles, and looks so damn cute with those dimples, Lena might swoon. The heroine motions toward the balcony. “Well, if you would be so kind as to invite me over . . .”

Her heart leaping into her throat, Lena immediately steps a few feet back, gesturing to the spot just in front of her. “Please, join me, Supergirl.”

The heroine floats a few feet closer and gently alights on the balcony, all the while smiling at her, and Lena could die of excitement.

“May I get you a drink?”

“Uh . . . Some water would be nice?”

Lena nods and rushes back inside the penthouse—to the kitchen—to the fridge, yanking it open and pulling out a four-hundred-and-two-dollar bottle of Kona Nigari water. Pure, desalinated mineral seawater from Hawaii, imported from Japan. Only the best for her guests. Only the best for Supergirl. This is water to be savored, the sensual way the cool freshness slips past one’s lips and chills one’s tongue. The heroine will forevermore associate Lena with such exquisite sensuality. Or, so she hopes. She hurries to grab a glass, tucking her own against her side and the crook of her arm, and races back out onto the balcony, not wanting to waste even a second of her ‘private time’ with Supergirl.

The heroine grins and reaches out to help Lena juggle the glassware. “You didn’t have to hurry so, Miss Luth—I mean, uh, Lena. I’m not exactly dying of thirst.”

 _No, but I am._ “No, you’re right, I’m sorry.” Lena giggles, and immediately regrets it. She is _so_ not coming off as a smooth, strong, self-assured CEO right now.

But Supergirl just shoots her what appears to be a shy smile, and Lena blinks. Could . . . Could Supergirl actually have a thing for _her?_ No, that’s impossible. Supergirl is literally a goddess, she could have anyone she wanted. Lena doesn’t even know if Supergirl’s into girls. Do they even _have_ that where she’s from? Regardless, Lena should invite her in . . .

“Where are my manners? Would you like to come inside?”

“Uh . . . I mean, it’s such a nice night—”

“Yes yes, you’re right, it’s—”

“—and I really only came to tell you you’re taking an awful risk, going ahead with the renaming ceremony with your life in danger.”

Oh. So this isn’t a social call after all. Well. “I won’t have a life if I can’t make this company into something positive. All I’ll be remembered for is Lex’s madness.”

Supergirl’s eyes widen—was Lena’s demeanor a little too aloof just now?

“Of course, Miss Luth— _Lena._ I’m just saying . . . I . . . I’m worried about you.”

Lena can’t help but smile. Even if it _isn’t_ a social call . . . Supergirl _cares._

Supergirl’s hand shoots to her ear. She listens a moment, then winces. “I’m sorry, Lena. Duty calls.” She slurps down the whole slightly less than a-hundred-dollar glass of water—her expression betraying absolutely no sign of enjoying the sensuality of the experience and associating it with Lena—then hands it back. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Lena takes the glass, staring as Supergirl lifts off into the sky. “I . . . I hope this isn’t the last time we talk.”

Supergirl stares back at her, seemingly in disbelief. Then she smiles. “I—I hope not, either.”

 

*

 

The night too soon turns into day, and Kara sits at her new desk, reading the surprisingly dry advertising copy. It’s only been a day, but so far Marketing hasn’t been as exciting as she’d expected. And ~~Garlic Breath~~  Harriet had gotten progressively more peeved each time Kara came back from the ‘ladies room’ (stopping a burglary, getting a dog unstuck from a fence, and . . . well . . . signing autographs, mostly). Maybe Marketing isn’t as good a fit as she’d imagined.

~~~~

~~~~

Once again her thoughts stray to Miss Luth— _Lena._ The look on her face yesterday when Supergirl told her someone was trying to kill her.

Like she knew exactly who.

The look on her face when Kar— _Supergirl_ came to see her last night. Almost like she had a _thing_ for her?

_Could there be a future for a Luthor and a Super?_

The way her expression fell when Supergirl expressed her concerns about the renaming ceremony. How her tone cooled.

But she’d said she’d like to see her again? Maybe? Her exact words— _I hope this isn’t the last time we talk_ —run through Kara’s mind once more. Like they’d done all last night while she was trying to sleep.

The renaming ceremony is set to kick off any moment. Alex and other DEO agents are present to ensure there will be no foul play. Still, Kara should take another ‘bathroom break’ soon, and zip on over.

Hopefully Harriet won’t notice.

 

*

 

Supergirl flies Lena home after the attack.

It’s not like she’s needed anywhere else right now—she and Clark had repaired L-Corp’s column so the building didn’t collapse, and Alex was saved by Lena shooting Corben, and Corben was taken into custody to the hospital, and Lena’s been questioned and given her statement, and . . .

And Lena thanks her profusely, and tells her she hopes they can see each other again, under more comfortable, casual, explosive-in-totally-different-ways circumstances.

Kara places her hands on her hips in her most authoritative pose. Lena was almost killed just now. Again. She should have listened yesterday when Supergirl warned her not to go ahead with the renaming ceremony. Kara has half a mind to scold her, as she’s a stubborn, hard-headed, exquisite specimen of a female woman and _Rao_ does Kara have a crush on her.

So when Kara relents, and saves the lecture for another day, and says she’d absolutely love to see her again, and Lena giggles and asks if maybe they could see each other again _today_ . . . _Right now, in fact_ . . .

When Lena asks her to stay, how can Kara say no?

That would just be rude.

Especially when there’s kissing involved.

 

*

 

Lena shoos her out of her apartment way too early, after not nearly enough kissing, explaining she has a special project that really must get done before they can see each other again. (“A red sun takes away your powers, isn’t that right?”)

Clark texts Kara to say he’s writing a front page article talking up Lena and L-Corp, and does she want to accompany him tomorrow when he pays Miss Luthor another visit?

She gently worries her lip between her teeth. She’d love to see Lena again as soon as possible, but Lena likes Supergirl. She hadn’t said even a word to Kara that day she’d met her in her office. If Supergirl and Lena have a possible future, she can’t complicate matters by adding Kara Danvers to the mix.

And she sure wouldn’t want a Clois situation on her hands, like when Lois mooned over ‘dreamy’ Superman but dismissed Clark as her sad sack ‘work’ friend. Kara still doesn’t understand how Clark and Lois finally worked all that out.

It’s better if Kara Danvers stays out of the equation.

 

*

 

The intercom buzzes. _“Security called—Mr. Kent is on his way up.”_

“Thank you, Jess. You can send him right in.”

_As well as his lovely companion._

Lena opens her desk drawer and takes out a compact. She checks her hair and makeup in the mirror, before replacing it and hiding all evidence of her insecurities, and her weakness for pretty blondes who smile at her.

_“And Mr. Harris called, demanding to know why you’ve shelved production of the alien detection device. I told him you were in meetings all day and would get back to him later . . .”_

“Thank you, Jess.”

_“. . . even though he doesn’t deserve it.”_

“Jess. You didn’t.”

_“I thought about it.”_

Lena chuckles, but her stomach lurches at the thought of the millions of dollars in potential revenue she’s costing her company. And she hasn’t even slept with Supergirl yet.

She picks up her pen and doodles a red and blue Supergirl crest on the corner of the prospectus she’s been reading all morning, along with a couple of tiny red hearts. (Probably not what Jess had in mind when she bought her those multicolored pens.)

Even if she and Supergirl never become an actual thing, she’s making the right decision. There are more important things than money.

Albeit, very few things.

Still, she wouldn’t want anyone feeling unsafe because of her. And she wouldn’t be able to bear it if someone got hurt because of her money-making scheme.

The door opens and she looks up expectantly, excited to see ~~the blonde~~ Kent again. Her stomach drops to see him there, alone, but she quickly fakes a welcoming smile—which turns genuine when he hands her a copy of today’s _Daily Planet_ —

 

**NEW DAY FOR L-CORP**

 

“I was wrong about you, Miss Luthor. I’m sorry.”

They make pleasant small talk for a few minutes, and Lena’s heart warms at how Kent seems to view her for the first time as something other than just a Luthor. As someone he respects, even. A peer. They even joke about something or other, and Lena desperately wants to slide in a casual, “Pray tell, who was that young woman who accompanied you last time you were here?”

But she’s just made a believer out of Clark Kent. She doesn’t need to also clue him in that she’s a sad, pathetic lesbian who obsesses over pretty girls she’s met once, without ever speaking a word to them.

Why can’t she get that woman out of her mind? Yes, she was pretty. She was very sweet. And kind. She understood Lena’s need to get out from under the shadow of her family name.

She’d seemed open to giving Lena a chance.

Lena shakes her head, shakes Kent’s hand, and spends the rest of the day firmly putting the blonde out of her mind, and focusing on her work.

She’s going to sleep with Supergirl. And to that end, she needs to concentrate.

The sun isn’t going to turn red all on its own.

 

*

 

In her continuing efforts to be a good mentor, Kara makes her daily trek back upstairs to the newsroom, _not_ to get away from the Marketing department, but to visit with Eve, to guide, support and inevitably console her. But something’s odd. Miss Grant has been distracted lately. Looking out her window, seemingly lost in thought. Not staying busy every second of every day. Not yelling at Eve. Or, more accurately, apologizing after yelling at Eve. Something is clearly wrong.

Kara comes back to her desk and, sighing, drops down again to her work. Marketing just isn’t turning out to be what she expected. Sure, she gets to talk to loads of interesting people all day, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that what she does isn’t all that interesting. And she speaks to these people mostly over the phone, which doesn’t excuse her numerous absences.

Luckily she has the brilliant idea to mention a ‘medical condition,’ and that shuts Harriet right up.

“Well, as long as you get your work done,” she garlic-breathes in Kara’s direction, and leaves—just in time, too, right as a call comes in regarding an alien found dead in the trunk of a car.

 

*

 

They soon figure out Roulette’s Fight Club scheme, and one night after mind-blowing sex, Supergirl turns to her ~~girlfriend~~ lover for help.

“I’m a Luthor, of course I’m invited to her little pop-up,” Lena sneers. She types the address into Supergirl’s phone, and in answer to Kara’s heartfelt thanks, just says, “I know you’ll be there for me when the time comes.”

“I’ll always be here for you,” Kara assures her, and Lena laughs and ‘pushes’ her back down into the sheets for another round.

“My hero,” she whispers, before doing things with her mouth that leave both of them incapable of coherent speech.

 

*

 

Kara steels her voice to make it clear this is a serious issue they’re discussing. A very grave issue. That this is a no-nonsense discussion. “You can’t go on with the fundraiser, it’s definitely going to be a target for this gang.”

Lena hums nonchalantly, and instead of assenting, licks Kara’s neck. “That’s why I need you there to protect it. With Supergirl in attendance, I know my guests and I will be safe.”

Kara’s breath hitches, but she refuses to lighten up around the weighty issue they’re discussing. The severe issue. No funny business now. _Gosh, I shouldn’t have started this discussion while we’re in bed._ “You like to take risks, don’t you? When Corben was after you, and now this . . . Why?”

Lena gently nibbles where she’s licked, and Kara shivers, wishing the marks wouldn’t go away when Lena inevitably turns off the red sun lamp.

“You can’t live in fear. You more than anyone must understand that. Time and again you risk everything to see justice done. Is it so hard to believe that I feel the same way? Or are you one of those people that thinks there’s no such thing as a good Luthor?” Lena runs her fingers softly up and down one of Kara’s breasts, then the other.

Kara lets out a little whimper, enjoying the sensations of relaxing in Lena’s bed, in her soft silk sheets, a bottle of that yummy Kona Nigari water on the nightstand. “I believe everyone should be judged on their own merits.”

“Then judge me on mine.” Lena licks around Kara’s nipple. “This party _must_ happen and I am _begging_ you for your help.” She takes Kara’s nipple into her mouth and sucks gently.

Kara moans. “I guess I have no choice.”

Lena’s lips let go, briefly, just long enough for her to say, “My hero . . . How can I ever thank you?”

Kara squirms with pleasure. “I can think of plenty of ways,” she squeaks out, just as Lena’s lips once again consume her.

 

*

 

“I still think this might be a bad idea.”

They’re heading for the gala, and Kara has an uneasy feeling in the pit of her belly, like there’s something Lena’s not telling her. But she doesn’t want to push. She’s falling for this woman, that much is clear, and she’s afraid she’ll push her right out of her arms if she’s too insistent. If she cares too much.

“Oh why don’t we wait and see how the evening pans out.”

Lena reaches for her hand, but Kara pulls hers back out of reach, as they’ve already breached the perimeter of the party, and heads are turning.

“I’ll check the perimeter for any activity and I’ll be back at the first sign of danger.” She throws a fist into the air, ready to launch, and—

“Don’t I get a kiss first?”

Kara’s fist wavers, and she stares at Lena . . . Lena in her pretty dress. “What? Here, in public?”

Lena arches an eyebrow. “Are you ashamed of being seen kissing a Luthor?”

“No I’m not _ashamed,”_ Kara scoffs. “I just want to keep you safe. If people think I’m, uh, especially fond of you or something, you would be in a lot of danger.”

Lena’s expression softens. She smiles, even. “All right, then. You don’t happen to have a secret identity, do you? So we could kiss . . . Or at least, innocently dance together, and no one would be the wiser?”

Kara breathes deeply. This is her chance. To tell her ~~girlfriend~~  lover of her alter ego Kara Danvers.

But what if Lena suddenly loses interest? What if she gets to know her better—as Kara Danvers—with all her quirks, her flaws, her struggles to stay engaged in this marketing job which doesn’t seem to be her calling at all—and the mystique evaporates? What if Lena finds Kara Danvers boring? She didn’t seem at all interested in her when they met in her office after the Venture exploded. Although, that could have been because Clark was giving off major accusatory vibes, and maybe Kara seemed threatening by association.

Still, why would Lena Luthor find Kara Danvers at all engaging? And what if she even eventually grows bored with Supergirl?

Kara realizes suddenly she hasn’t responded to Lena’s question, and Lena blushes, looking so deeply vulnerable. Kara _does_ desperately want to kiss her, even here in front of all these people.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Lena says with a wistful tone. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Secret identities exist for a reason, and you certainly don’t have to tell me yours just because we’re sleeping together.”

Kara’s throat tightens. “It’s for your protection—for _everyone’s_ protection.”

“Of course it is,” Lena answers with an awkward laugh and a wave. But her eyes look sad, like she doesn’t really believe it.

Kara reaches out a hand to touch her, wanting to, so badly. But she immediately pulls it back. Right here really isn’t the place for it. But . . . a little honesty goes a long way. Some vulnerability on her end.

“And I don’t just think of you as the woman I’m sleeping with.”

Lena quirks an eyebrow again, but this one comes with a soft smile. “Don’t you?”

 _“No.”_ Kara puts all her heart into that one word, into her tone, into her eyes, beseeching Lena to understand how important she is to her.

Lena’s eyebrow rises rather suggestively now. “Supergirl. Are you perhaps asking me to be your girlfriend?”

She understands perhaps _too_ well. Kara stammers and flushes and scrapes the toe of her boot against the brick floor. “Well, uh . . . I mean if you need to put a label on it . . .” She smiles, staring at her boot, the bricks, anywhere but at Lena. “Sure.”

“Well, then.”

Kara finally looks up at her _girlfriend_ (squee!), at her beautiful smile, and shoots her a shy smile of her own. She then launches into the sky, giving her girlfriend a little wave on the way up.

 

*

 

Lena stares up at her _girlfriend_ lifting up into the air, and sighs happily. Perhaps a bit too loudly, as Jess is just passing by, diligently, tirelessly making sure this gala will be a success.

“Jess. You just missed Supergirl.”

“Did I? Golly.” Her assistant doesn’t even bother to disguise the sarcasm in her voice.

Jess has made no secret of her distaste for the Girl of Steel. (“She comes by here all the time to check on you, just because you’re a Luthor!”) Lena has more than once debated telling her assistant the truth. (“She’s not really checking on me per se . . . it’s more of a _fucking me_ sort of situation.”) But since she hadn’t been exactly sure what she meant to the superhero, she hadn’t really felt comfortable telling anyone about her just yet.

‘Anyone.’ Who is she kidding? Who would she tell, other than Jess?

She _could_ call Sam in the Metropolis office and confide in her. There’s another something important she’s been meaning to ask her, anyway . . .

 

*

 

The gala is a smashing success, raising millions of dollars for Luthor Children’s Hospital. Not only that, but they catch the gang that’s been terrorizing National City, Supergirl is proud of her—if a little upset Lena didn’t confide in her beforehand—and she even makes a new friend, Winn Schott, CatCo’s former IT genius (currently working for the government . . . Lena bets there’s a story _there_ ). She’s already totally planning to poach him for L-Corp’s benefit.

He invites her to go out for drinks with friends of his Friday night . . . at National City’s alien bar. Lena declines. As much as she’d like to make some more friends . . .

(Currently she only has two here in National City, Winn and Supergirl. Can she even call Supergirl a friend? Can you call your girlfriend your friend? Lena isn’t sure. She hasn’t had much experience in this area.)

But with a last name like Luthor, she wouldn’t be welcome there.

 

*

 

After the gala, Kara brings Lena back to her office so she can get more work done. (Lena works way too hard.) She confronts Lena again, this time over setting a trap for the gang without telling her.

Of course, they’re on Lena’s desk in a considerable state of undress when Kara confronts her.

“Who would’ve believed it, a Luthor and a Super . . .” Lena says upon catching her breath. “Working together . . . Having sex together . . . Thank God I thought to build an extra red sun lamp for the office, I think you might’ve killed me otherwise with your enthusiasm.”

“Please.” Kara lets out a huff. “I would never let anything bad happen to you. If you hadn’t built that thing I wouldn’t have slept with you at all, I wouldn’t have taken the risk.” She pouts and boops noses with her lovely, insufferable girlfriend. _“You’re_ the one who likes to take risks, remember?”

Lena bites down on her lip, looking thoroughly chastised for once. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, darling. I . . . I should have trusted you. I’m sorry.”

Kara rests her forehead against Lena’s. “It’s okay. I know you’re used to going it alone. But you’ve got me now. I’m here for you, Lena. I . . . I love you.”

Lena’s breath catches, and she pulls away just enough to stare into Kara’s eyes. Then she softly caresses Kara’s cheek. “I love you too, Supergirl.”

“Kara.”

Lena’s eyes go wide. “Beg pardon?”

“My name is Kara. My real name. Kara Zor-El.” She gently places her hand over her girlfriend’s. “I trust you, Lena. I want you to know all of me. I want to know all of _you.”_

“Kara Zor-El,” Lena says, almost reverentially. “I want to share my life with you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, and then draw together for another kiss . . .

When the intercom buzzes and the guard downstairs interrupts.

_“Lady Macbeth is on her way up.”_

“Thank you, Carl.”

Lena sighs, patting Kara on the thigh in what’s clearly meant to be a gentle dismissal. “Would you excuse me, Sup—I mean . . . _Kara.”_ She says her name with so much love Kara could burst. “I have to take this.”

“Of course.” Kara kisses her girlfriend once more, putting all her love into that simple gesture. She zips up Lena’s dress for her before reluctantly getting up from the desk. Yanking her skirt back up her hips, she makes her way to the wall to turn off the red sun lamp, so she can leave the same way she came in. She turns to move toward the balcony—

To find Lena right behind her.

Lena pulls her in for yet another kiss, and Kara can feel all her love in that simple motion. “Call on me again soon?”

Kara gently caresses Lena’s waist. “As soon as you want me.”

“Darling. I want you now.”

“Well, then.” Kara leans in to once again press her lips softly against Lena’s.

Lena smiles against Kara’s lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow night, after I get my work done.”

“Mmm.”

Lena works way too hard.

Kara grabs her cape off the desk—Lena had detached it from the Super suit for some matador roleplay fun—and starts to reattach it to her shoulders. She heads out onto the balcony, looking over her shoulder real quick to catch Lena checking out her butt. (Lena thinks she’s subtle. She’s not.) Grinning, she launches into the sky, noting the sophisticated-looking woman in her late 50s who enters Lena’s office and smiles. A little ominously, actually. She’ll have to remember to ask Lena who that is.

 

*

 

She inevitably forgets to ask. Who could even remember other women _exist_ when their girlfriend is so beautiful, so ravishing, so unbelievably wonderful and smart, sexy and captivating?

So the next time Kara sees this woman, it’s when Supergirl’s been captured by Cadmus. Lillian Luthor forces her to solar flare and steals her blood, for some as-of-now unseen, devious purpose.

“Does Lena know about Cadmus? Does she know who her mother really is?”

“And what are you to my daughter?”

“I’m a friend.”

She can’t very well say, “I’m her girlfriend,” and put Lena in even greater danger.

Kara escapes, and the next time she sees her girlfriend, she casually brings up Lena’s mother in conversation. Lena’s unease and vague answers do cause Kara a bit of concern. But only a bit. When she and the DEO finally discover Lillian’s scheme to kill all the aliens in National City, Supergirl thwarts the real Hank Henshaw’s attempted theft of the Medusa virus—which Kara’s own parents created. Then suddenly everyone at the DEO is ganging up on her girlfriend, refusing to believe Lena could possibly be on the side of good (although Winn at least feels guilty about it, having sort of made friends with her at the gala). But Kara still believes in her. Sticks up for her.

“I looked into Lena’s eyes, she doesn’t know anything about Cadmus and her mother, I know it.”

“Would you stake the lives of all the aliens in the city on that?” The look in J’onn’s eyes, his hands on his hips, communicates exactly what he thinks of Lena Luthor.

 _Yes,_ she wants to say. Wants to ask him why he doesn’t just read Lena’s mind and prove her right. But lately J’onn has been hesitant to invade people’s privacy, except when absolutely necessary. And, he’s the boss.

So Kara drops by Lena’s office balcony, heart pounding and hands shaking over this conversation she does _not_ want to have.

Lena looks up from her tablet, her expression changing from surprised to amused to seductive in two seconds flat.

“You know that door is not really an entrance . . . But I’m glad to see you, darling. Take me to bed?”

Kara stammers, not having expected _that_ —although that’s pretty much the only thing they ever do together, girlfriends or not. Even their hesitant, careful attempts to open up, their getting-to-know-each-other talks, only ever happen after sex. She’d like for them to go on a picnic or something.

She puts thoughts of dates including food aside, and steels herself for this uncomfortable conversation. “I actually came because I need to talk to you about something, Lena.”

Her girlfriend sets aside her tablet, comes to her, and puts her arms around her. “Come on, you can tell me later. Or tell me in bed. Consider it pillow talk.”

“Lena. It’s very important.”

“I’m sure it won’t seem so important after an orgasm or two.” Lena leans into her and gently nibbles on her neck.

Kara caves. Of course she does.

She flies Lena home. After a delicious romp in bed, they’re cuddling, and Kara’s completely forgotten about everything but Lena’s soft, sensual skin. Thirsty, she reaches over to the nightstand for a bottle of that yummy Kona Nigari water, and—

“So what was so important you almost wouldn’t fuck me tonight?”

Kara groans internally. But after three orgasms, her girlfriend should be in a generous mood. “I need your help, Lena.”

“After three orgasms, how can I deny you anything?”

That’s almost as good as a promise. Kara sighs with relief. Still, she doesn’t look at Lena when she opens with, “I need help finding your mother.”

Lena doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Kara sneaks a peek at her face. It’s closed up, tense, suspicious even. “My mother?”

“Your mother . . .” Kara takes a deep breath “. . . is behind Cadmus. She’s their leader.”

Lena pulls out of her embrace, twisting around in bed to stare at her full-on, unblinking. Finally she speaks again, her voice hard. “You’re lying.”

Kara hesitantly reaches out to her, her voice pleading. “I’m not. She kidnapped me and now she possesses a virus that could wipe out the entire alien population in National City. I need you to help me find her so that she doesn’t hurt any more innocent people.”

Lena’s jaw clenches. “You know I thought you were different. You wear that symbol on your chest and everyone thinks you’re good. How many times did your cousin put on that high-and-mighty costume and come after Lex? My mother is no saint, but you come in here and accuse her of being the devil incarnate?” Tears spring up in her eyes, and she angrily wipes them away. “And in my bed, of all places?”

Kara gently tickles the soft hairs on Lena’s forearm. “Well technically, you’re the one who insisted we talk in bed, so . . .” At the look on Lena’s face, she stills her fingers. “Just trying to lighten the mood a little.”

The sheets pull away and Lena bounces out of bed. She wraps her crimson silk robe around her, covering up, hiding herself from Kara. “How long before you come after me?”

“Lena. Please don’t be like that.” Kara gets out of bed and comes up behind her, not bothering to put on her Super suit. She tries to gently embrace her, but Lena moves out of her grasp. “I know what it’s like to be disillusioned by our parents. But I _know_ you, Lena. You are not like your mother. She is cold, and dangerous, and you are _too_ good, and _too_ smart, to follow in her path. You call me your hero. Right now I need you to be your own hero. I need you to be mine.”

Her girlfriend keeps her back to her. She’s still for a moment, then her shoulders heave. “You can leave the same way you came in.”

She strides into the bathroom and shuts and locks the door, and a few moments later her quiet sobs fill Kara’s ears.

Shame courses through her at invading Lena’s privacy, and she withdraws, quickly getting back into her Super suit and escaping out the balcony.

She flies around for a while, looking for a crime to stop. Itching for a fight, needing someone to punch. But it’s strangely quiet tonight, and eventually she takes refuge on her couch with a pint or two of ice cream for company.

Wanting so badly to call her sister.

But Alex also thinks Lena’s on her mother’s side. She won’t be any help to Kara tonight.

 

*

 

Finally Lena’s able to get herself to stop crying, hating herself for having done so where her girlfr—where _Supergirl_ could so clearly hear her. She gets dressed and heads back over to the office, determined to get to the bottom of all this.

Reaching the R&D lab, she bypasses the containment suit for Kara she’d started working on recently (because she hadn’t been spending _all_ her free time building red sun lamps so they could do it in different rooms). Instead, she heads for the locked office that houses what’s left of her brother’s old projects. At least, those that hadn’t been confiscated by the government.

If her brother knew she was helping Supergirl— _sleeping with_ Supergirl—he would probably lose what little hair he has left. His eyebrows, and the cilia in his ears.

It doesn’t take her long to discover what the cyborg was after—isotope 454. It looks like Kara was right. Her mother _is_ in charge of Cadmus.

She shouldn’t have snapped at her girlfriend like that.

Lena works late into the night, preparing a trap for her mother, sighing and thinking of Kara Zor-El. It was her own sensitivity that caused her to accuse her girlfriend of lumping her in with the rest of the Luthors. When Kara is one of the few people who’d given her the benefit of the doubt, who wanted to get to know her for _her._

She’ll have to make it up to her.

 

*

 

Winn’s radiological alarm alerts the DEO that Cadmus is setting off the Medusa virus over the Port of National City.

Kara and J’onn race across town. She uses her telescopic vision to scan ahead.

Lena and Lillian Luthor stride away from what looks suspiciously like a rocket launcher. Lena takes a key from her mother. Fits it into the slot of a control box.

In a flash, Kara and J’onn alight on the ground behind them.

Kara’s throat tightens. She can’t even fathom why Lena would do such a hateful thing.

Supergirl can just super-speed on over and stop her girlfr—stop _Lena_ from turning the key. But she still believes in her. Lena has a good heart, even if she’s been temporarily swayed by her mother. She deserves the chance to do the right thing.

Kara owes her that much.

 

*

 

“Don’t do it, Lena!”

Lena stares at her girlfriend, pain filling her heart. She was right about her after all. No matter the intimacies they’ve shared these past few weeks, Supergirl truly just thinks of her as a Luthor.

Or does she? Lena’s got her hand on the key that will seemingly launch a missile to eradicate all aliens in the city.

Lena could just explain the whole thing now. That she switched out the isotope. That this is just a ploy to get incriminating evidence on her mother. She can prevent things from getting uglier between her and Supergirl.

But then they wouldn’t have what they need to put her mom away for good. And . . . and Lena will never know for sure how Kara Zor-El really feels about her.

She makes her decision. Pulls up her resolve.

Her girlfriend will surely say she’s not just a Luthor. That she’s too good, and too smart. That Supergirl believes in her.

She affects a sneer. “Why not? I’m a Luthor.”

 

*

 

Kara’s breath hitches. That wasn’t what she was hoping— _praying,_ praying to Rao to hear.

Within a split second she’s there, her hand over Lena’s, over the key. Preventing her from turning it. But dying inside.

It’s over between them. It has to be.

She cringes at the look on her girlfr—Lena’s face. Angry. Hurt. Betrayed.

Heartbroken.

But so is Kara. “I should have known.” She’s sorry at how Lena’s face crumples even more. But Kara’s got to express her feelings. “I trusted you, Lena. And this is what you do with my trust. I should have known not to trust a Luthor.”

A tear rolls down Lena’s cheek, and despite everything, Kara wants desperately to reach out and gently wipe it away. To hold Lena in her arms. To tell her everything will be okay.

But it’s not. And it can never be.

J’onn suddenly appears beside them, an odd look on his face. A look of . . . compassion? “Let her turn the key.”

Kara stares at him. She must not have heard correctly. “What?”

His voice is so calm and assured. “Let her turn the key. Trust me, Supergirl.”

Kara breaks eye contact to gaze at Lena again, how she’s drawn herself up to her full height, a look of defiance on her face. Then Kara glances at Lillian Luthor, who’s smirking. She turns to J’onn again. “But . . . _J’onn—”_

For long moments nothing happens, Kara’s hand still over Lena’s, all of them staring at each other . . .

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” Lillian’s hand shoots out on top of theirs and turns the key underneath them.

Kara stands frozen, not believing what just happened. In a burst of smoke and flames, a rocket launches into the sky. Carrying the virus that will wipe all the aliens in the city off the face of the Earth.

“Go!” J’onn snaps her out of her trance. “I’ve got this.”

Kara nods, spares a last glance back at her ex-girlfriend—who’s crying—and races after the rocket.

 

*

 

“Gotcha!”

She reaches it in time, grabbing onto the ends, and—

It explodes in her face.

She’s thrown back, hurtling toward the ground.

Finally she’s able to slow her momentum and right herself, and shoot back off into the sky.

But it’s too late. The missile has unleashed the virus.

She speeds back to the port, just in time to knock out the cyborg who erroneously calls himself a Superman.

J’onn transforms out of his Martian guise, as red ash falls all around them. But J’onn smiles, as if he doesn’t have a care in the universe.

Lillian Luthor stares up at the sky, then all around her, in apparent disbelief. “They should be dead. _All_ aliens should be dead.”

Lena stalks back in front of her mother.

Lillian turns on her. “You. You switched out the isotope. You made the virus inert.”

Lena stares at her mom, as sirens wail off in the distance. “I did. And I called the police.”

Kara’s jaw drops. Her girlfr—

No. Lena won’t be her girlfriend anymore. Lena will never forgive her for this.

She’d planned to betray her mother all along. She was never going to kill the aliens. She was never going to hurt anyone. Kara should have known.

Shame fills her, and her heart shatters into a million pieces, like the millions of tiny red particles floating harmlessly down to the ground. Just then Lena turns and stares at her, the hurt and betrayal etched all over her face, and in her beautiful, sad eyes.

Lena doesn’t say anything. She just turns and walks off, slowly, into the night.

Kara moves to go after her, but J’onn lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Let her go,” he says kindly. “We’ll get her statement in the morning.”

“That’s—I just need to—I mean—” J’onn obviously read Lena’s mind to know she switched out the isotope, but maybe he didn’t get that she and Lena were together. And she certainly can’t tell him here in front of Lillian. “I just want to—”

“I know,” J’onn says softly. “She needs time, Supergirl. Just give her time.”

And as Kara stares at Lena’s silhouette as it fades into the dark night, she realizes she has all the time in the world.

Because even all the time in the world won’t change Lena’s mind.

 

 


	2. The Blonde

 

 

“And may I ask why, exactly?”

Lena stares at her assistant and lets out a huff. She’s the _boss._ She doesn’t need to justify buying CatCo to her _employee._

But, she will. Just for educational purposes.

“To prevent that despicable Morgan Edge from buying it and using it to run a smear campaign against my company.”

“Hmmm.” Jess nods thoughtfully. “And this decision had absolutely nothing to do with that pretty reporter from CatCo who came by to interview you about the Venture?”

“Jess!” Lena gasps. “She’s not a reporter.”

“But she _is_ pretty.”

“This was purely a business decision. I’m a businesswoman.”

Her assistant utters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like _useless gay businesswoman._

“I met her _once,_ Jess. More than a year ago. Do you really think I’ve been thinking about her all this time?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, there you have it.”

“I know so.”

Lena opens her mouth to protest, but Jess cuts her off.

“I _know_ you, Miss Luthor. I’ve been here for all—” she sighs “— _two_ of your attempts at relationships. You either obsess over someone who seems sweet and get all moony-eyed over them, but can’t actually bring yourself to ask them out, or, you settle for someone so obviously predatory, just because you’ve reached your threshold of loneliness.”

Lena scoffs. “I’ve had relationships before you started working for me.” And after. Thank God she hadn’t confided in Jess about dating Supergirl. What a disaster that attempt at a relationship had been.

But Jess is right. The only reason Lena even knows the blonde isn’t a reporter is because the next time CatCo requested an interview, she circumvented her assistant and called herself, to specifically ask for the reporter who’d accompanied Mr. Kent.

 _“Do you know the name?”_ CatCo’s receptionist had asked.

“Of course I don’t, I’m a useless lesbian,” she’d muttered.

_“Pardon?”_

“I don’t, unfortunately.”

They’d sent her the link to the online profiles of all their current journalists. The blonde hadn’t been among them.

Lena had briefly considered requesting a link to the profiles of _all_ CatCo’s employees. But the receptionist had already sounded suspicious, and Lena hadn’t wanted to push it.

Jess sighs again now, a deep, all-encompassing sigh, likely at the worlds of pain she’s endured being Lena’s assistant. “That’s all very well and good, Miss Luthor.” Lena looks up at her, and Jess actually smiles for once. It’s a slight smile, but a smile all the same. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Lena smiles, too. She’s known all along that Jess cares for her. It’s just that Jess likes to _show_ she cares, instead of saying it.

She needs people to say it every so often.

 

*

 

“Earth to Kara . . .”

From her too-tiny tub of ice cream, Kara digs out a clump of cookie dough, sticks it in her mouth, and stares out the window at the pouring rain.

A pillow smacks against the side of her head and she yelps in surprise, if not pain. “Hey!”

Alex retrieves said pillow, just to turn around and give Kara a soft swat on the shoulder with it. “Spill. I know something’s bothering you when you’re staring out the window instead of at the tornado whisking Toto and Dorothy away.”

Kara sighs, letting her attention wander briefly back to the TV, just as Miss Gulch transforms into the Wicked Witch of the West. “Huh. That looks like Garlic Breath.” At Alex’s puzzled expression, she amends, “I mean, Harriet. My boss at work.” The _real life_ Wicked Witch of the West. “You know how Miss Grant left to become President Marsdin’s press secretary, and left James in charge?”

“Yeah, like, six months ago. What about it?”

“What you don’t know is she was worried about someone unsavory buying her company, so she confided in someone she trusted, and that someone has been secretly buying up shares. Until yesterday, when that someone out and out bought CatCo. She’s coming in tomorrow to talk to all the departments.”

Alex quirks an eyebrow. “Does this someone have a name?”

Kara shrugs and digs a deeper hole in her ice cream. “Don’t you watch the news?”

“Maggie and I have been married three months. Any free time we have is not spent watching the news.”

Kara’s cheeks heat up at this unasked for reference to her sister’s sex life. “Point taken. It’s . . . it’s Lena Luthor.”

Alex’s eyes go wide. _“The_ Lena Luthor?”

“Do we know another?”

“Well, this is good, right? Lena Luthor helped us put away her mother, and then helped us find and capture scores of other Cadmus operatives. We like Lena Luthor.”

“A little too much.”

“All right, Kara. What’s going on?”

“Lena and I, we were—” Were they ever really girlfriends, though? Girlfriends tell each other stuff. “We were kind of a thing.”

Alex’s eyes go wider than Kara has ever seen them. “You dated Lena Luthor?” The _without telling me?_ goes unsaid.

“I mean, just as Supergirl. I never told her I was Kara Danvers. You know, the whole secret identity thing.” The _I was afraid you’d be mad at me_ goes unsaid.

Alex is silent awhile, lost in thought. She gently squeezes Kara’s shoulder. “Well, as a general rule, yeah, you’re not supposed to tell people. But if you two were serious about each other . . . Were you serious? Or just casually dating? Or just, you know, sleeping together?”

Kara digs for more cookie dough, or more ice cream even, but it’s all gone. Shoot. She must have finished it while she was staring at the TV, still pining for Lena after all this time. Lena, who does _not_ look like the Wicked Witch of the West, or act like her, in the slightest. _“I_ was serious. I . . . I _think_ she was serious about me, too.”

“But you’re not anymore?”

Kara just shrugs helplessly.

“Huh. Okay. In that case, I guess it’s good you didn’t tell her. Although, if you’re with someone and you’re both serious about each other . . .” Alex scowls. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. But. I think Lena kind of deserved to know. She helped us a lot, and J’onn read her mind and was sure we could trust her. As your significant other, she could have helped us more at the DEO. And it would have pissed off Pam in HR, which is always a plus.”

Kara can’t help but smile. “You don’t like Pam in HR either?”

“Who does?”

“True.” Kara stops thinking of nasty Pam in HR, then cringes at the memory of the last time she saw her ex. “That night at the port . . . It ended badly. I really thought Lena was going to try and kill all the aliens in the city. I said some terrible things to her. Unforgivable things.”

Alex gets that look in her eyes like when she’s about to badmouth someone Kara cares about. “J’onn reported Lena was pretending to be on her mother’s side. It’s understandable you would have believed her. She ended it with you because of that? Even after you apologized? It’s kind of on her, if she didn’t confide in you. It sounds like maybe the relationship wasn’t all that healthy.”

Kara stares sadly into her empty ice cream container. “I never apologized.” She doesn’t want to look over, afraid Alex’s eyes have gone wider than is possible and have exploded. “The way she looked at me . . . so full of hurt. And then she just walked away. J’onn told me not to go after her, that she needed time.” She crumples the container into a ball and flings it in the direction of the trash can, not even caring where it lands. “I never had the courage to reach out to her and try.”

“Oh, Kara. I’m so sorry.” Alex reaches out, and pulls her into a hug.

Kara lets out a sob. She’s never allowed herself to talk to anyone about Lena before, even though J’onn had gingerly tried to get her to open up. “She only ever liked me when I was Supergirl. When I first met her as Kara Danvers, she wasn’t interested in me at all.”

Alex says nothing for a little while. Then, “Maybe . . . she’s just not a fan of pastel cardigans?”

Kara can’t help but laugh at Alex’s gentle joke, but the tears keep coming. “All along she just wanted me, the symbol, the larger-than-life heroine. The abs, maybe? And then at the port, when I showed her my ‘human’ side, that I can leap to conclusions, that I can be judgmental, that I make mistakes . . . She didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

Alex makes some soothing noises, and squeezes her a little bit tighter. “It’ll be okay. _You’ll_ be okay. She didn’t deserve you, Kara. You deserve someone who wants all of you, who appreciates all of you. And that person is out there, waiting for you. And once you find her, you’ll forget all about stupid Lena Luthor.”

Kara lets out a sloppy giggle. “I thought you liked her.”

“Not if she hurt you, I don’t.”

They stay like that a long time, and then Glinda asks, “Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”

Alex mumbles, “Lena is definitely a bad witch.”

That makes Kara laugh at least. But it isn’t true. As Glinda says, “Only bad witches are ugly,” and Lena is the most beautiful of all.

Finally they part, and Alex hesitantly asks, “What are you planning to do about CatCo?”

Kara takes a deep breath. “I’ll be all right. She’s the Big Boss. It’s not like she’s going to be spending her time with a junior Marketing associate. She won’t notice me at all.”

 

*

 

The elevator pings to a stop, the doors open, and Lena puts her best foot forward, as her Louboutins click across the floor and step onto the carpet of CatCo’s newsroom.

The blonde could be anywhere, and Lena wants to make a good second impression.  

“Ms. Luthor! It’s so nice to see you.” Mr. Olsen’s assistant beams at her.

A bit too enthusiastically, to be honest. Who is that excited to meet their new boss? Lena’s deep-seated suspicions flare, but she smoothly hides them behind a professional smile.

“Eve . . . Teschmacher, right?”

Eve actually _squees._ And giggles. Something Jess would never do in public. And possibly even in private.

“Sorry, I’m a huge admirer of yours.”

Lena thanks her, and Eve says she called and got Jess to reveal all of Lena’s favorite things. So at least Jess trusts her not to poison her coffee. (Jess is a great judge of character . . . except possibly about Supergirl. But that’s primarily Lena’s fault.)

Eve hurries off to get Lena’s coffee, and Lena suggests she use the elevator that goes straight to the ground floor. At the way Eve gushes over getting to use the “boss’s elevator,” Lena actually feels sorry for her. _(She’s supposedly a scientific genius,_ Cat had written in the notes she’d left behind, _but I’m starting to suspect she secured the job of being my assistant by sleeping with my previous assistant.)_

Well. Eve bounces away, all blonde and beautiful, with a pert little— _Oh my God. Curb it, Lena. You are a professional._

Cat’s previous assistant certainly has good taste, whoever she is.

She turns back toward Mr. Olsen’s office—just as a blonde with a cute little ass wearing tight crimson trousers hands him a small something and scurries away.

It’s _the_ blonde. Lena instinctively opens her mouth and lifts a hand to hail her, like a taxi, but the blonde practically flies past the elevator and beats a hasty retreat down the stairwell.

“Miss Luthor.” Mr. Olsen approaches her, and after they get the pleasantries out of the way (as well as the unpleasantries, as Mr. Olsen apparently hadn’t been aware until just now that Lena planned on being here today, as well as every day), he holds out a peace offering of sorts, a gift—

“A day planner?” With a bright blue bow on it. It’s what she saw the blonde hand him just before she sped away. “It’s lovely. And this is from?” Angling to finally learn the elusive blonde’s name, she tilts her head toward the path she’d taken. Possibly to her cubicle. Which Lena should take care to discover the whereabouts of sometime today, as she roams free, asks questions, and hears unfiltered conversations to understand how things are working.

Mr. Olsen opens his mouth, stammers, and looks over at the stairwell. “All of us.”

Hmm. Well, no matter. Lena will discover her name in due time, once she starts dedicating her energies to learning the ins and outs of how things work at CatCo. Or perhaps today, in one of the department meetings she’d prescheduled, with no ulterior motives whatsoever.

“That’s very considerate. Thank you, Mr. Olsen.”

It really is very kind. Maybe the blonde _does_ like her. It’s not totally out of the realm of possibility the blonde was just as taken with her the first time they met as Lena had been with her . . .

Naah.

She’s probably just offering the new boss a nice welcome gift, because she’s sweet like that.

Or perhaps Clark Kent badmouthed Lena so much after their initial meeting, the blonde is scared of her, just as Eve was terrified of Cat Grant.

Lena sighs. Please let her not become the next Cat Grant. She has enough of a bad reputation just being a Luthor.

 

*

 

“Why don’t we go around the room and you can all introduce yourselves, tell me a little about yourselves, your job responsibilities, your career ambitions . . .” _If you’re single and would like to go on a date with me Friday night . . ._ That last thought is directed at the blonde, tucked away into the corner of the conference room, seemingly making herself small. Marketing, hmm. Not really the department Lena would have thought to find her in. Accounting had been her first guess. Meek, shy, glasses . . . It seemed to fit the pattern of the accountants she’d worked with in the past.

As they go around the room, Lena makes a conscientious effort to pay attention to each person speaking, but she can’t stop her eyes from continuously flitting over to the corner, where the blonde keeps _her_ eyes on the paperwork in front of her and fidgets with her pen. She’s acting just as shy as Lena that first day, when Lena could barely make eye contact with her. Maybe the blonde _does_ have a bit of a thing for her? But now that Lena’s her boss, she probably thinks Lena wouldn’t be interested in her.

They get closer and closer to the blonde, Lena getting closer and closer to learning her name. The lady sitting to the blonde’s left talks animatedly of her ambitions within the Marketing department, artfully disguising what seem to be her true intentions of usurping Harriet’s position—when suddenly the blonde jumps up from her chair, knocking over her looseleaf binder. She hurries toward the door, citing a ‘medical problem,’ and as she opens it and skips out of the room, Lena lifts a hand and calls out—

“Wait—I didn’t catch your name?”

But the blonde’s already gone.

Harriet coughs and turns to Lena. “That’s just Danvers.” (Lena subtly sidles away from the garlic breath.) “Can’t legally get rid of her, you know. Because of the Disabilities Act, unfortunately.”

Lena narrows her eyes, and makes a mental note to see what she can do about legally getting rid of Harriet.

 

*

 

Listening in from clear across the building lest Lena come after her, Kara’s shoulders slump with relief. Thank Rao Harriet had only referred to her as Danvers. It had been risky, calling attention to herself like that, but otherwise she wouldn’t have gotten away with withholding her first name. She ought never to have told Lena her real name in the first place. What had she been thinking?

She’d been thinking, she was in love with Lena.

It’s too late to change the past. The best she can do now is stay away from her. Kara sighs. She’s safe. Lena’s a very busy CEO—of _two_ companies. She won’t care to look into the background of a lowly Marketing associate.

Especially someone she couldn’t even bother addressing the first time they met.

 

*

 

The evening stretches into night, as Lena restrains herself from going through the employee files in search of the elusive blonde, in favor of exhausting every official piece of CatCo business she can distract herself with. As well as L-Corp business. Eve had kindly offered to stay late to help, but Lena had sent her home, unwilling to torture yet another assistant when she’s still unofficially torturing the first. Every half hour, a new ~~threat~~ text arrives from Jess telling her to call it a night. Even Sam texts her to see if she’s gone home yet—to which she replies, _I just left._

Sam is pretty easy to fool.

Lena sends another missive: _Are you okay? You’ve been looking a little pale lately._

To which Sam insists, _I’m fine. I’m just tired. Not enough hours I guess._

Lena sighs in solidarity. _Yeah, I get that._

Jess, on the other hand, is nearly impossible to get anything over on. Fifteen minutes later another _fwip_ sounds from Lena’s phone, and she just knows it’s her concerned but fed up assistant. Lena gives in and texts back, _This time I’m really going._ She’s as good as her word, shutting down her computer, turning off the light, and shutting the door behind her. Calling her driver, she makes her way down to the lobby and exits the building, proud of herself for not being obsessive and checking HR’s records for this Danvers woman.

Charles pulls the town car up to the curb. She opens the door and gets in (having finally trained him not to pop out and open it for her). They pull out into traffic, and Lena sighs and feels proud of herself . . .

Oh who is she kidding? She snaps open her laptop and fiddles her fingers over the keyboard.

“Dalton, Daly . . . Ah, here she is . . . Danvers, Kara. Marketing. Formerly assistant to Cat Grant . . .” Hmm. Lena thinks back to Cat’s note about her assistants, before reading the employee profile once more, and—she stares at her screen, her mouth suddenly dry, really registering the name now. _“Kara.”_

Kara Zor-El.

After so many months, she finally allows herself to remember her girlfriend’s face. To hear her melodious voice.

Lena had helped the DEO round up her mother’s minions, but had studiously avoided the superhero. She’d changed the news channel whenever the broadcast turned to the heroine’s exploits. She’d continued working on the containment suit she’d started building for Kara to protect her from kryptonite exposure, telling herself she wasn’t doing it for her ex’s benefit, but for National City’s. For the world’s.

But now she sees Kara just as if she were here, standing in front of her. Her eyes so bright and sincere. Her brilliant, kind smile. Her beautiful heart. That little crinkle she’d get when she was upset or annoyed. The way her laugh made Lena think of little birds carrying tiny bells off to their nests to lull their babies to sleep with.

Lena shuts her laptop and lets out a deep sigh, as she suddenly has a huge headache. She could quite easily find some clever way to legally fire the blo— _Kara._

But that would make Harriet very happy, and they can’t have that.

Besides, Lena is not a vengeful person.

She _would_ like an apology, however . . .

 

*

 

Months go by, and Lena’s a little surprised she never runs into Kara in the CatCo building, even though she continues her practice of roaming free, asking questions, and hearing unfiltered conversations so she can ~~discover what her employees truly think of her~~  understand how things are working. Although whenever she sets foot in the Marketing department there’s a sudden whoosh of air and a colorful blur of light (pastel, usually) before the room settles back to normal.

She no longer turns the channel when Supergirl comes on the news, instead staring at the heroine’s face and chiding herself for never realizing her girlfriend _was_ the blonde. _You only met her once,_ says a kind voice in her head she associates with her real mother. This soothes her for a moment, until the critical voice in her head named Lillian replies she saw them both on the same day. _It shouldn’t take a genius to look past a ponytail and a pair of eyeglasses._

The holidays arrive, and Lena helps Eve set up the decorations, wincing as her assistant insists on hanging up mistletoe over copy machines and under doorways.

“It’s tradition, Ms. Luthor.”

“It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

Equally nerve-wracking are the copious amounts of alcohol Eve insists on ordering for the holiday party.

“People need a day to cut loose, Ms. Luthor.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

But Lena acquiesces to her assistant’s wishes, not wanting to come off as a non-hip CEO.

She’s not overly worried about CatCo’s employees. (Except for Harriet. Lena has long suspected the Marketing head of being a lunchtime drinker, as well as a proponent of preparing for vampires.)

It’s herself she doesn’t fully trust. She’s still harboring anger at her ex-girlfriend, who never even had the decency to apologize to her, to admit she was wrong. Lena’s been known to let her inhibitions slide after one too many fingers of scotch, and the last thing she wants is to create a scene in public, or accidentally reveal Kara’s alter ego. Because Lena is not a vengeful person. And she certainly wouldn’t endanger her ex, or National City, or the world—just because of hurt feelings.

 

*

 

“Come on, Kara. It won’t kill you to show up.”

James is encouraging her to come to the CatCo holiday party, especially since Kara had to leave her own party upon the discovery of the ancient Kryptonian symbols burned into fields and onto rooftops all across the city.

It’s probably a good idea. Eve has been acting suspicious ever since the discovery of the Supergirl-sized hole in the elevator ceiling. It couldn’t hurt for Kara to make an appearance, pretend to get drunk, possibly knock over a punch bowl or two, and perhaps dance on a table.

Although, that might draw the Big Boss’s attention. Maybe Kara can negatively influence Eve’s opinion of her in some other, more subtle way.

 

*

 

“Ms. Luthor. You’re missing all the fun.”

Lena doesn’t even look up upon hearing this awful news. Her fingers continue to flit over the keyboard, as the strains of laughter and “Jingle Bell Rock” mingle and float, unwelcome, into her office.

“I still have some reports to go over, Eve. I’ll be out soon.”

“But we’re going to start the Secret Santa any minute.”

With a sigh, Lena logs off. She wouldn’t want to miss _that._ Especially since she’d like to see her Secret Santa’s reaction to her gift—a cookbook entitled _Spice Up Your Life: The Joys of Cooking with Herbs and Spices From Around the World._

Hopefully Harriet will take the hint.

Lena gets up from her desk and Eve beams—as does her sweater, adorned as it is with a felt Christmas tree and flashing lights. They make their way through the bullpen to the open door of the main conference room, the laughter becoming more raucous and the Christmas music even more obnoxious. Lena immediately heads to the refreshment table on the far side of the room—far away from the blonde wearing a Santa hat, snacking on gingerbread cookies at the table nearest the door—so she can start with a cup of spiked punch and maybe make this evening somewhat more bearable.

She gulps the concoction down and grimaces, as it hasn’t been spiked nearly enough.

Eve passes by, chattering away about starting the Secret Santa, when Bob, a fact-checker, utters an expletive and admits he forgot to get Bernice a gift, and does he still have time to run to the dollar store?

Lena groans inwardly and pours herself a second cup of the weak punch, and eyes the egg nog for good measure. Her gaze inadvertently tracks across the room . . .

And meets Kara’s.

Kara quickly averts hers, stuffing another gingerbread cookie into her mouth.

Lena’s temper flares, still stuck on that non-existent apology. True, she never really gave Kara a chance to tell her she was sorry. She had just walked away. And Lena’s been told enough times she’s intimidating to acknowledge it can be hard to approach her. Still, Kara could have come after her. Kara didn’t even try.

And what’s immeasurably worse, Lena still finds her irresistibly attractive.

She pours herself a cup of egg nog and makes her way back across the room, taking tiny sips all the while, as Eve snogs the new intern in the glow of the Christmas lights, probably just killing time until Bob gets back from splurging on Bernice at the dollar store. Lena dodges Margery in Advertising as she drunkenly twirls in time to “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” (finally, a Christmas song Lena can get behind). Margery must have brought her own stash, because the alcohol quotient in these office drinks just isn’t cutting it. Lena wonders if Eve hid all the good stuff for herself, and is tempted to ask Margery if she can have a swig. Margery probably won’t even remember in the morning. But too late, Margery’s already grabbed Stan in Advertising and is leading him in something resembling a mambo, as the song switches once again. Margery gives Stan’s Santa hat a suggestive tug, and hums along to “Santa Baby.”

Picking a piece of tinsel out of her hair that’s somehow materialized there in her trek across the room, Lena puts on a fake smile as Kara turns to face her.

“Evening, Miss Luthor. I’ll just get out of your way.”

Kara moves to do just that, but Lena reaches out a tipsy hand to stop her. (It seems Eve is better at mixing drinks than she thought.)

“Wait—I never got your name.”

Kara’s eyes bug out, but she quickly composes herself and waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m nobody.”

Lena wills her eyebrow to rise in its most intimidating arch. “Oh now, don’t be so self-deprecating, I’m sure you’re someone _super_ special. Harriet said your surname is Danvers, but I never caught your given name.”

Kara looks like, if she weren’t a superpowered alien, she’d surely be sweating buckets right now. She gulps, and stammers, “That’s right, that’s me, Danvers, everyone calls me that around here. Good ol’ Danvers.” She laughs, a high-pitched noise that seems meant to summon Santa’s reindeer. “That or Sunny. Sunny Danvers. Or just Sunny D. No one _ever_ calls me by my first name.”

Lena smirks. “Well, Danvers, I have to tell you, I find you quite attractive. As well as that lovely reindeer-with-the-light-up-nose-and-the-googly-eyes sweater you’re wearing. It’s quite becoming.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Kara squeaks, while edging her way through the tiny gap between Lena and the refreshment table.

Which happens to be right under a sprig of mistletoe.

Lena knows she shouldn’t. She’s had more to drink than she thought, they’re in a very public place—their place of employment, no less—and Kara hasn’t given her consent. Kara doesn’t even know Lena knows she’s her ex-girlfriend.

_“I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus, underneath the mistletoe last night . . .”_

But the new song selection seems to be telling her to go for it.

Lena leans in . . . slowly, still cognizant enough to give Kara time to decline.

Kara stares at her like a reindeer caught in headlights . . . but then something flickers in her eyes, and she leans in to meet her.

Their lips softly touch, just graze really, and it seems to make up for everything.

Kara suddenly pulls away, her cheeks as red as her reindeer nose. “I’m sorry, Miss Luthor. I can’t do this.” But she makes no move to get away this time.

“Lena.”

“What?”

“Please, call me Lena.” _I’ve missed it. I’ve missed you. Terribly._

Kara’s jaw falls open, and she’s speechless a few moments. Maybe she’s remembering that first night on Lena’s balcony, just as Lena is. “I’m sorry Miss Luth—uh, Lena. I really don’t think we should be kissing.”

Lena’s cheeks heat up too. Surely they’re also just as red as Kara’s light-up nose. “Is it because I’m your boss? Or is it because I’m a Luthor?”

Kara’s eyes go wide. “No,” she finally gets out, her voice soft, and sad. “I mean, maybe the boss thing a _little_ bit? But not because you’re a Luthor. Really, it’s just the opposite. You are a good, _good_ person, Miss— _Lena._ You deserve someone _so_ much better than me. Someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

They stare at each other again, Lena longing to confess, longing to apologize for her part in all this—

There’s the crash of glass, and Lena whirls around as a man rolls, bloodied, on the carpet.

A figure in black swoops in through the shattered window as CatCo employees shrink back in fear.

Lena glances behind her, but Kara’s already gone. She faces the female in black and strides up to her, trying in vain to shield her employees. This must be the alien responsible for killing members of the 1-7 street gang, as well as terrorizing Morgan Edge. (Lena can’t believe she’s feeling a sense of solidarity with Edge.)

“Why have you come here?”

“To deliver a message.” The voice is robotic, passionless, businesslike.

“We are not your messengers.”

The woman in black sneers. “Yes you are.” She turns and points at Gene in Accounting, who’s been joyfully wielding a video camera, thrilled to have been chosen to record the party, now probably wishing he was back holed up in his little cubicle.

Before she can get another word out there’s a whoosh of air, and Supergirl is in their midst, possibly outing herself in front of all of CatCo. But that’s a worry for another day.

“So you’re supposed to be the devil?”

“The devil isn’t real. I am Reign, from the time before fathoming. Born to cleanse the scourge and deliver the awakening. I survived Krypton’s death, and was sent here to dispense justice.”

Supergirl’s jaw clenches. “I’m not going to let you hurt anyone else. Surrender now before I make you surrender.”

Reign sneers. “So full of hubris. Stand down, or I will dispense my justice on you.”

“Take your best shot.”

They stare at each other a moment longer—

_“You will get a sentimental feeling, when you hear . . . voices singing let’s be jolly—”_

Reign hurtles into Supergirl—driving her through the office—up into the ceiling tiles—and back down—

Landing in the pile of Secret Santa gifts.

Bob enters the conference room brandishing a box wrapped in Happy Birthday paper, lets out a squeak, turns tail and scurries back out the doorway.

Supergirl and Reign proceed to trade superhumanly powerful punches as employees scatter and hide under tables.

Lena and Eve huddle together behind the punch bowl.

“Get ’er, Kara!”

Lena turns and stares at her assistant.

Eve merely shrugs. “Everyone in the office has known since the elevator incident.”

Finally Supergirl manages to get up from a skirmish first, grab Reign from behind, and fly her up and through the ceiling.

_“Everyone dancing merrily—”_

Everyone jumps up from their hiding place and rushes the stairwell, desperate to leave the building.

“Stay calm!” Lena might as well be yelling into the void. It’s a mad rush, led by Harriet.

 

*

 

Lena, Eve and James are the last to exit the building, as they first split up to make sure there aren’t any employees left behind. Of course, CatCo might actually be the _safest_ place to be right now, as Reign probably won’t take her fight with Kara back here. But there’s safety in numbers. And Lena would never forgive herself if they left the building, only to have the alien battle wind up back here and one of her employees get hurt.

They burst out onto the sidewalk . . .

Just as Kara falls from the sky.

She crashes feet from them, and lies there, bloody and still.

“Ka— _Supergirl!”_

Lena rushes toward her girlfriend, but black-clothed bodies—Alex _Danvers_ among them—shove her out of the way. They climb through the rubble to get to Kara, gently place her on a gurney and whisk her away, into the back of a black windowless van, just like the one they’d brought Lena in to the DEO with, back when she helped them go after Cadmus.

She races around the block, texting her driver all the while. Within thirty seconds the town car slams to a stop beside her. “Charles I’m sorry, I need to do this alone.” He stares at her through the rolled-down window, not comprehending, as she’s never commandeered her own vehicle before.

“Get out—get _out, please_ Charles.” Her shrill voice panics even her.

He stumbles out of the front seat and she guiltily takes his place. Where she’s going, she can’t take anyone with her.

She blasts through side streets, knowing exactly where the van’s headed. Speeding to L-Corp’s main entrance—where they had picked her up that day—she briefly ponders whether she should first run down to the lab. But she doesn’t think anything she’s built so far can help Kara after the beat-down she’s suffered.

There _is_ something Lena might be willing to unveil. But not without Kara. Lena’s first priority is Kara.

She can always ask Jess to bring that item later. The DEO’s nasty HR person will just have to deal.

Once reaching L-Corp, Lena drives on, counting to herself all the while. Counting seconds, counting turns. That day she had checked the traffic beforehand, and now comparing that to the current number of cars on the streets, she can accurately gauge how long to drive straight, and when and where to turn.

Tucking her headset over her ear, she hits speed dial on her phone. It goes to voicemail. “Winn. I’m calling back. Pick up when I do, or call me back. I know you’re there. I know you work with Super—with _Kara._ I saw you in the DEO the last time I was there. You’re not the epitome of stealth, to be brutally honest. I’m almost at the building. I swear to God if you don’t pick up the phone I’m busting in all on my own.”

Before she even hangs up she finds herself in front of a towering skyscraper further downtown. This must be the place. She hits speed dial again. “Pick up, pick—Winn! Thank God. I’m in front of the DEO. Are you going to let me in or do I need to add breaking and entering to my Luthor rap sheet?”

He stammers a reply, and she hangs up. Not thirty seconds later the roll-up door rises, and she pulls into a huge underground garage, where she’s immediately accosted by a DEO agent guiding her into a designated space. As soon as she exits the car he rushes up to her.

She jerks her arm away. “I know my way around.” Still, she follows the agent deep into the heart of the building. To Kara.

To Kara’s still-beating heart. She lies on a treatment bed, attached to machines, agents all around her feeding her fluids and checking her vitals.

“Her pulse is weak,” calls a medic. “She’s crashing,” says another.

“We need to intervene.” Alex barely glances at Lena, but it’s a glance full of venom.

More wires, more tubes, and then a gentle hand falls on Lena’s shoulder.

She looks into Winn’s fearful eyes. “She’ll be okay,” he says, putting on a hopeful front.

Her attention is pulled away once more, as Alex speaks to her unconscious . . . sister? Cousin?

“Stay with me, Kara. _Stay with me.”_

 

*

 

Kara wakes up in her bed, fully clothed, in her Super suit. Odd. She must have been so worn out from fighting Reign when she came in last night, she totally forgot to change into her favorite puppies-flying-rocket-ships pajamas. She shakes her head, trying to clear the cobwebs, but it doesn’t help. She can’t remember a thing.

There’s a knock at the door. Yawning, she throws aside the sheets and makes her way to the door, opens it—

And freezes, at the sight of Lena Luthor staring at her from the corridor.

For sure she’s here to yell at her for being the worst girlfriend ever.

The shame and guilt overwhelm her. She slams the door shut—

Except a blue hand shoots through the crack and forces the door open.

A blue man with white hair and three glowing discs embedded in his forehead, like UFO Smurf, stands on her threshold. Is she dreaming? That would explain sleeping in the Super suit, and Lena’s appearance at her loft to yell at her almost a full year after the Medusa incident. “Can I . . . help you?”

He steps inside and closes the door behind him, and launches into an explanation.

This ‘Brainy,’ as he calls himself, immediately inspires her trust, despite having been sent to her by the Legion of Super-Heroes. (Mon-El, to be precise. Sheesh, how annoying had it been, having to reject his unwanted advances. Could he not tell by her buff arms and stylish button-ups she was a lesbian? Did she have to write it on a Post-it note and stick it on her forehead?)

Alex and J’onn have obviously okayed this plan, so Kara’s happy to work with UFO Smur— _Brainy. Don’t call him UFO Smurf to his face, dumb-dumb._

 _Mmm, Dum-Dums. Lollipops. Sweets. Sticky buns._ Her stomach growls. It must be time for breakfast. She searches for food items, mysteriously missing from their normal places on the kitchen table and countertops, and in the cupboards (she _must_ be dreaming), as Brainy goes on to explain she’s in a—

“Coma? I’m in my loft.”

“Loft?” He seems to think a moment. “Oh, you mean the physical manifestation of the place in which your subconscious feels most comfortable. In actuality, you’ve been in a coma for two days. The same 31st century technology allowing me to communicate with you is also what’s keeping you alive.”

_“Alive?”_

“Reign defeated you. Don’t you remember?”

What? No. _She’d_ defeated _Reign,_ and soundly at that. She’d kicked that emo, walking Halloween costume up and down the streets of National City and booted her right into her new home, an underground cell at the—

The DEO.

Her sister’s soft pleas fill her ears—“Stay with me, Kara, _stay with me.”_

Images flash in front of Kara’s eyes. Her sister’s frantic face . . . life support machines . . . Lena’s lips slowly moving toward her own . . .

Kara can’t help but smile, and sigh contentedly . . . But then more pictures fill her vision. Reign’s stupid face . . . her own arms flailing as she falls from a great height . . . lying amongst the rubble of the pavement she’d crashed into . . . and then . . . nothing.

She snaps back to the present moment, breathing hard. “No, this is crazy, Reign is still out there. People are dying—I have to wake up.” She runs to the door, grabs the handle and—

It rattles uselessly in her hands.

 

*

 

Lena stares forlornly as her girlfriend floats, unconscious, in a fluid-filled tank, desperately clinging to life. This must be how Princess Leia felt as she worried over Luke Skywalker in the bacta tank. Lena takes heart at the fact Luke _did_ recover. And that afterward they kissed.

She longs to kiss Kara again. Her thoughts stray to the memories of their last intimate moment, and then to what might happen when Kara’s out of danger, recuperating on a treatment bed . . . Like in that deleted, extended scene from _The Empire Strikes Back_ . . .

She gently caresses Kara Skywalker’s cheek.  “Does it hurt?”

Kara shoots her that adorable ‘aw shucks’ grin. “Nah, I’m fine.”

“I was real worried.” Princess Lena runs her fingers through Kara Skywalker’s hair . . .

 _“You_ were worried?” Kara teases her, but then grows solemn. “I was thinking, I might never get the chance—” She breaks off, sighing.

Princess Lena asks, “What?” She leans in closer. “Tell me.”

Kara Skywalker doesn’t answer, just leans closer . . . leans in to kiss her—

 _Annnd_ pretty soon after that they find out they’re siblings, and things get weird.

Lena would do much better in the future to fantasize about Kara Solo.

Now the blue alien from the future with the glowing discs in his forehead, who’s straight out of the _Star Wars_ cantina, opens his eyes and tells them Kara’s mind is active and alert. But she’s afraid.

Winn makes a smartass comment Lena wishes she’d thought of first. Director J’onzz asks what they’re all probably wondering—

“You’re speaking with her right now, even as you’re speaking with us?”

The Blue One gestures to the bubbling tank. “The crown connects to my internal A.I. core. It translates her brainwaves to English and sends electronic signals back to her.”

“These tanks have incredible healing powers,” says the good-looking brunette, also from the future, who Lena secretly hopes leaves before Kara awakens and meets her. “So she just needs to rest and let it do its work.”

“You’re from the future. Did you know this was going to happen?” Alex accuses the gangly guy with the beard Lena feels sure she’s met, perhaps even spent considerable time with, in some other lifetime, or dimension.

“No but she’s through the worst of it, she’ll live.”

“But when will she wake up?” Lena struggles to keep her voice professional.

“We don’t know.”

Fear gnaws at her belly and she turns back to her girlfriend, trying to will her to come back to them. To her. If only Lena could communicate with her, tell her how sorry she is. That she still loves her.

That she’s always loved her. All of her.

 

*

 

“What are you doing?”

For some reason Brainy’s peeking behind Kara’s couch cushions, as if looking for lost change, which he won’t find because she’s already checked. Or potsticker crumbs, which, if he finds some she sure hopes he’ll share, because she’s looked everywhere and there’s no food at all in this apartment.

“Checking for brain damage. In simulacra like the one we’re in now, brain damage can present itself in any number of ways. Mildew, mold . . . rats indicate neurological issues—It’s just to prepare you for reality reentry.”

“Reality reentry?”

“If you’re not properly prepared when we wake you up, you could go into shock. Some people die immediately.”

“Wait though. Does—” She leaps off the couch. “Does that mean I’m ready to wake up?”

“So it would seem.”

“Yes! Haha!” She tosses a pillow at his head and heads to the door, turning around to ask, “Do I need to do anything?” Besides apologize to Lena. And not just for the awful things she’d said. She hopes Lena’s not too mad at her for slamming the door in her face. Or at least, trying to.

He gazes at her in a seemingly wise way. “Your loft is the manifestation of your subconscious. And that door seems to be the best way in or out, followed by these large windows, of course. My assumption—walk through it.”

She rushes to the door—

 

*

 

At the DEO, the fluid starts to drain from Kara’s tank.

“Brainy?” asks Alex, addressing the Blue One.

His voice is calm, assured. “She’s ready.”

 

*

 

Kara grabs the handle—but it still won’t budge, no matter how she struggles.

 

*

 

Alex races to the tank and gives it a few insistent taps. “Kara? It’s _me.”_

Brainy looks bewildered for once. “She . . . should be . . . fine.”

Instead Kara’s head falls listlessly against the back of the tank.

 

*

 

Kara wheels around. “It’s not opening.”

Brainy rushes to the door, but it won’t open for him either. He turns and points a finger at her wonderingly, as if it’s her fault things aren’t happening the way he expected. “You . . . should be fine.”

 

*

 

Alex rounds on Brainy. “Why isn’t she waking up?”

Lena’s heart pounds, wanting to grab this _Star Wars_ reject and . . . and . . . She doesn’t even know. Challenge him to a lightsaber duel? Shoot first? Her girlfriend needs help! He may not be from the _right_ galaxy far, far away, but he’s from the future, which is just as good, and Kara needs him.

No one else can help her now. Lena’s failed. She could have been there for her, but she wasn’t. Now this blue alien, who’s had the gall to speak with the calm assurance of Obi-Wan Kenobi all this time, needs to step up.

He’s their only hope.

 

*

 

“Why won’t this open?”

“Your body is fine. We drained the tank. You suffered no ill effects from the hibernation—”

_“. . . perfect hibernation . . .”_

Kara’s mind flashes to _The Empire Strikes Back,_ when Lando Calrissian affirmed Han had suffered no ill effects from the carbon freeze.

Leia wound up rescuing Han. Maybe that’s why Lena’s standing in the hallway.

Maybe she’s here to save her.

No, that can’t be true. Lena must hate her. Sure, she came on to her at the holiday party. But that was only because she was tipsy and Kara was wearing that awesome Rudolph sweater, a babe magnet if there ever was one.

Still, the fact that Lena came to her after all this time—even if it’s just in her subconscious—must mean something. Even if there’s no chance for them to be together again, even if Lena never forgives her, Kara at least needs to apologize. Lena deserves that.

Kara _wants_ to apologize. Maybe she’s still a little scared to face Lena again, but willingness isn’t the problem.

The handle obstinately won’t work. Why not?!? This is her subconscious and her intention is clear, and true, and loving . . .

“Why am I still stuck in my brain?”

“There’s nothing wrong with your brain. We’ve ruled that out.”

Kara scowls and marches back to him. “Well you’re the 12th-level intellect, why don’t you figure it out?”

He calmly—way too calmly for her liking—takes a sip of coffee. (Where the heck did he find coffee—an actual food—in this barren apartment? And why didn’t he offer her any?) Then he lowers the mug, and stares at it. “Well that rules out the physical. So barring another explanation, I would have to say, the only thing keeping you here, is you.”

Kara scoffs and lifts her arms in the air in the universal _what the freakin’ heck_ sign. “That doesn’t make any sense because I’m the one who wants to get out of here.” _I have Reign to fight, an ex-girlfriend to grovel to and hopefully make up with, and wow do I need to stock up on food because why is there none in this apartment?_

She stomps back to the door and shakes the handle once more. “Why won’t this open for me? It opened for me earlier.”

“To let me in. Getting out—”

She punches the door in her frustration, but a force field of sorts sucks in her momentum and shoves her back out again.

“—different story. Is there some reason your subconscious might be . . .”

Kara hauls off and attacks once more, with all her might—but the field takes in her energy and throws it back at her, making her stumble back into the room.

“. . . preventing your escape? Self-preservation, perhaps?”

She whips around, her cape slashing the air, and stalks toward him. “I’m not afraid.”

The cape settles against her back, and she stops short. “Hold on—I’m wearing my Super suit. When I’m wearing only it, I always leave my loft through the window. That must be what I have to do!”

Her heart leaping with joy at the prospect of seeing Lena again, and defeating Reign, she runs to the window and flings it open. Throwing a fist into the air, she hurtles through the—

_Splat!_

She lies bewildered on the hardwood floor. Some invisible force knocked her back.

Getting to her feet, she cautiously reaches out an arm and tries to stick it through the air . . . But either another force field, or an extension of the first, refuses her exit.

There’s got to be a solution. “Maybe I need to change into one of my Kara Danvers outfits and walk out the door that way.”

Spying her glasses lying on the table, she picks them up, blows on them to clear the dust and puts them on. Zipping behind her folding screen, she super-speeds out of her suit, into a cardigan and trousers. A good choice, as the pants are the pair she was wearing when Lena hit on her at the party.

Emerging from behind the screen and looking over her shoulder to give Brainy a confident smile, she struts once more toward the door and tugs at the—

It still won’t open.

“Let’s go back to you not being afraid.”

She turns, and he’s looking at her like what she said earlier was highly illogical. Now she totally gets why Threepio bugged the heck out of Han.

“You were badly beaten.”

She scowls at him, turns back to the door, and heat-visions that sucker.

“Fear is a logical response to that stimulus.”

The door seems to just calmly suck in the incoming lasers, until she finally runs out of steam. She breathes in deeply, gearing up for another onslaught. “I am _not_ afraid.”

She puts everything she has into her next assault, screaming to the heavens. Papers, books, and sweaters go flying. Even Brainy’s mug shatters in protest.

 

*

 

Lena finds herself in a recovery room, standing by Kara’s bedside, just like Princess Le—

_Don’t go there, Your Highness._

But Kara isn’t awake. She isn’t healing. She’s still unconscious.

“Come on Kara, snap out of it,” mutters Alex.

“Brainy will figure it out,” says the gangly beard-man.

“Don’t over-promise,” says Brainy. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“What happens if she stays like this?” asks Alex.

“The longer she remains unconscious, the more likely it is that it will become permanent.”

An alarm blares, red warning lights flash—

“Reign’s attacking again,” says the beard, and everyone rushes out to deal with the new threat—Alex first giving her sister a soft touch on the shoulder and Lena, a nasty glare.

Lena stares at the exit, all alone with Kara now.

Without Brainy, they’ve lost her.

Lena may be a certified genius. But she’s certainly no 12th-level intellect. What can she possibly do to help Kara?

Turning back around, she hesitantly sits on the edge of the bed, next to Kara’s unconscious form, watching her chest slowly rise and fall. This is all her fault. “Kara, I . . . I’m so sorry, darling. I should have been there for you.”

They wouldn’t be needing to rely on a blue alien from another time and galaxy if she had just processed her hurt and moved on. Working together with Supergirl—whether they were a couple or not—perhaps she could have channeled her research into a way to help the superhero in the event she’d been defeated by a rogue Kryptonian.

She reaches out to stroke her girlfriend’s hair, to part it just the way Kara likes. “I was so hurt by what you said I walked away, refusing to acknowledge my own part in what happened. I didn’t try to work it out with you. I didn’t give you a second chance—”

“I’ll run another scan on Kara—” Brainy wanders back in, but stops short upon realizing Lena and Kara are having a moment.  

Lena just ignores his presence, ignores the obnoxious alarm and the blinking red lights, and continues to unload her heavy heart, hoping some part of Kara’s brain can hear, and will want to come back to her.

“I was drawn to you that first day I met you in my office at L-Corp, but I was too shy to even ask your name. This is kind of embarrassing, but I thought about you, this mystery blonde, ever since then. I stopped once we started dating, when I knew you only as Supergirl. But once that ended, I couldn’t help but think about you again, the woman I didn’t think I knew. And to think all along you were the same person.”

She lets her fingers trace a soft path down Kara’s cheek, her neck, her shoulder, past her heart. “Perhaps if I had known, I would have allowed myself to share my plan to catch my mother with you. If I had seen this other, less confident side of you before, maybe I would have allowed myself to show you mine as well.”

Blinking back tears, she continues her soft touches till she reaches Kara’s hand, settling hers in it, hoping that somehow, Kara can feel it.

“I want you to know, Kara Zor-El is my favorite person. Both sides of you. I want to know you, all of you. I forgive you for the things you thought and said. I was as much to blame for that as you. I should have confided in you, darling. I shouldn’t have created the conditions that made you think badly of me . . .”

 

*

 

Some aspect of this scenario indicates it isn’t meant for Brainy to witness. Perhaps it’s the fact that Lena Luthor has her back to him.

Lena Luthor, inventor of so many wonderful things, that aren’t even a twinkle in her eye yet.

Brainy turns away, to concentrate on the huge, monstrous battle happening in 21st century 3D reality to his new friends. He rushes off to get to his post, to fire the cannons. Interestingly, it’s quite like when Han Solo and Luke Skywalker escaped the Death Star, like Winn had shown him.

 

*

 

“Engaging cannons.”

Kara looks up from sorting scattered papers and clothing, as Brainy manipulates an invisible control panel with his eyes closed. “Are you fighting?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“What’s going on out there?”

“Just a little, tiny . . . baby battle. Actually, let’s keep talking. It’ll help get my mind off this life or death scenario.”

She jumps up off the floor. “Your mind _should_ be on the life or death scenario.”

But he just grabs three oranges from the dining table . . . What the—how the heck did he conjure three actual oranges out of thin air? And can he teach her to do that?

“I’m perfectly capable of multitasking.” He starts to juggle the oranges, which is totally unacceptable when there are hungry people present. “I’m actually working on your Sunday crossword right now. Six down is—hey!” He looks down at the oranges Kara’s knocked out of his space and scattered onto the floor.

He can teach her the food-materializing spell later. And he can come back to help her break out of foodless-apartment-mind-prison. Right now her family and friends need him more.

“Go help them.”

“But . . . I need to help . . . you.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll take it from here. This must be something I have to figure out on my own. And if I can’t manage it, you can always come back. Except next time, bring pizza. And potstickers.”

He nods, chanting to himself, “Pizza. Potstickers. Yes.” He gets up and makes for the window, then turns back to her. “For what it’s worth, it looks like Supergirl had a pretty great life.”

Kara looks around, at all the things in her apartment—Kara’s things—she hadn’t shared with Lena. Because she was too afraid to let her see her outside of her superhero persona. To let her see her as Kara Danvers.

She’d just assumed Lena wouldn’t care for her as much. She’d never given her a chance to see that side of her. She’d jumped to the worst-case-scenario conclusion, just like she had at the port, hurting Lena so badly. All because of her fear.

Brainy was right. She _is_ afraid. Well, not of that abominable disgrace of a Kryptonian with no fashion sense. (An all-black costume? Really? _How_ original.) But she _is_ afraid of letting someone in fully. Of baring her soul, not just her body.

“These aren’t Supergirl’s things,” she admits, swallowing hard. “They’re Kara Danvers’ things. I’ve always kept them separate. The parts of myself, I mean. Not just the things.”

Brainy stares at her a moment. “Lena Luthor said something similar a few minutes ago.”

“What?” Kara’s jaw drops in disbelief. “Lena? Where did you talk to her? What did she say?”

Brainy looks at her, for once, not like she’s an interesting puzzle he’d be keen to solve. He looks at her, like . . . like she’s a person.

“She came to the DEO. To help you. She said, Kara Zor-El is her favorite person. Both sides of you. She said she wants to know all of you. She . . .”

“She what?” Kara urges.

“She forgives you for the things you thought and said . . . and said she was to blame as well.”

Kara kneels and reaches out her hand, to grasp the Rudolph sweater that landed nearby after her near-solar flare. Lena wasn’t all that drunk at the party, to be honest. And, she concedes, not everyone is a fan of light-up-nose reindeer sweaters.

Lena had called her someone _super_ special. She had kissed her.

She’d realized Kara Danvers was Supergirl, and not only did she still want to be with her, she wanted to be with Kara Danvers, too.

Kara looks up at Brainy again. “Thank you,” she whispers. He’ll never understand how much he’s helped her.

He nods at her, seeming to understand after all, and places his fingertips together. Then in a flash of light, he’s gone.

Kara looks around her once again, determined not to be trapped here in her subconscious, away from Lena, any longer. She takes in all Kara Danvers’ things, the Super boots lying on the floor by the screen, the suit and cape hanging over it.

“I’m supposed to be integrated. Whole. I need to accept both parts of myself equally, and let the people closest to me see all of me. I . . .” She squeezes the red nose, but softly, so it won’t break. “I need to put on my Kara Danvers outfit over the suit.”

She makes her way to the screen to grab the Super suit. She puts it on, then pulls the trousers she’d worn at the party over it. And, the reindeer sweater.

It’s not the heroic persona of Supergirl that’s truly her, nor the somewhat awkward ‘disguise’ of Kara Danvers.

It’s all of her. It’s Kara Zor-El.

Once more she turns slowly around, looking at all the things in her loft she wants to share with Lena. Her paintings. Her favorite books. Movie nights on the couch. The food that should be there, to share. Her insecurities, her weird stuff . . . She wants to know Lena’s weird stuff, too. Does she squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle, like a normal person?

Something glints in the sun and catches her eye—

A key. Lying on the table.

She fits it inside the lock. It turns. She opens the door—

To bright, almost blinding light.

 

*

 

Lena gasps as Kara takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and sits up in bed.

They gaze at each other a moment, as alarms continue to go off around them. Tears spring up in Kara’s eyes, after all this time. Lena’s throat tightens. As much as she needed an apology, she never needed tears.

So she just opens her arms, and Kara falls into them.

“I’m so sorry, Lena. I—”

“Shh, I know. It’s okay, Kara. I’m not angry anymore.” She gently cards her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair, as Kara cries into her shoulder.

“What I said to you was unforgivable. I never truly thought of you like that, as just a Luthor. I hate myself for what I said—”

“It’s not your fault, Kara. I had my hand on the key. I acted like I was going to turn it. I told you as much. What else could you have thought? I should have trusted you with my plan, instead of deliberately deceiving you.”

Kara shakes her head, but softly, gently nudging Lena’s. “You were trying to trick Lillian, you had to keep up your front. I should have realized you were setting her up, just like you set up that gang at the fundraiser. Yeah, maybe you could’ve told me beforehand, but that doesn’t excuse what I said. I am so sorry, Lena. I love you, and miss you, and . . . I’m so, so sorry.”

Lena shakes her head, too, and tightens her hold around Kara. “You couldn’t have known. We didn’t know each other all that well. I kept myself hidden.”

“I did, too. I was afraid for you to know me as Kara Danvers. I was afraid you’d get bored with me.”

Lena laughs. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been obsessed with the pretty blonde I met in my office for more than a year now.” When Kara lets out a surprised squeak, Lena pulls away just enough to kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry, too, darling. Let’s be honest with each other from now on.”

“Definitely.” Kara nods. “Did you really like my reindeer sweater?”

“Yes.”

Lena tries, but just can’t keep a straight face, and Kara bursts out laughing.

They kiss, and then embrace again, and stay like that a few minutes . . . breathing together, the alarms and lights a constant reminder that Supergirl’s needed elsewhere. Finally Kara reluctantly pulls away.

Lena leans down to the floor. “I know you have to go fight Reign, but you won’t be at your best if you don’t fuel up, and I don’t want to lose you again.” She comes back up with—

“Potstickers? Lena, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t want to leave your side.” Lena settles the plate of food on Kara’s lap, letting her hand fall to rest on Kara’s thigh. “Jess did. I think your HR person hates us both.”

“Eh.” Kara shrugs. “She hates everybody.”

“Your sister hates me, too.”

“She won’t for long.”

Kara makes quick work of the potstickers, then stands up, looking refreshed. She puts her hands on her hips, looking for all the world like the superhero she is. But Lena’s looking forward to getting to know her better as Kara Danvers . . . that infamous blonde. And soon.

“Well,” says Kara, leaning in, ostensibly for a goodbye kiss. “I’m going to go kick some Kryptonian butt. I promise to be safe. I’ll be back before you know it.”

But Lena leans down again. “I’m coming with you.”

She picks up a blaster from the box Jess had retrieved from Lena’s office—full of Lex’s old things. That he’d managed to hide from the authorities. Straightening, she holds it up for Kara’s viewing. “It’s loaded with gold kryptonite. Courtesy of my brother.”

Kara stares at the blaster. “Lena. You didn’t.”

“I did.” What else should Kara Solo expect from Princess Lena?

Kara shakes her head. “Alex is so going to keep hating you.”

“I can live with that.” Lena leans in to collect that kiss, even though they won’t be saying goodbye any time soon.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“That’s why I’m not letting you go without me.”

Kara sighs. “You’re a stubborn, hard-headed woman, Lena Luthor.”

“I know.”

“And I love you.”

“I know.”

Kara laughs, they kiss, and then Kara gently picks her up. And then . . . they’re flying.

Lena’s flying. In Kara’s arms. If only her brother could see her now.

He’d convulse with fury.

Lex can send as many drones after her as he likes. Nothing’s going to hurt Lena now.

“I love you, Kara Zor-El.”

Kara gently tightens her hold around her, and Lena readies her blaster.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone!


End file.
